Proper 21.B.24
Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29
The Rev. Melanie McCarley
I suspect most of us, at one time or another, have felt as though the weight of the world rested solely upon our shoulders? I have. Moses did as well. This week’s Old Testament reading takes us into the rocky territory of the Sinai wilderness, where Moses is faced with a slew of complaints (dare I say, a tantrum) by the people of Israel—who, just one chapter earlier, had departed from Sinai, where they had been encamped since the exodus from slavery in Egypt. They arrive at Moses’s doorstep and say: “If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we used to eat in Egypt for nothing, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic; but now our strength is dried up, and there is nothing at all but this manna to look at.”
Having received a complaint—Moses, in turn, complains to God. “Why have you treated your servant so badly? (he declares) Why have I not found favor in your sight, that you lay the burden of all this people on me? Did I conceive all this people? Did I give birth to them, that you should say to me, ‘Carry them in your bosom, as a nurse carries a sucking child,’ to the land that you promised on oath to their ancestors? And God hears.
God’s response is to propose a restructuring of leadership. Moses is to gather seventy elders of the people, and the Lord comes down and takes some of the spirit that was on Moses and spreads it around. Not only do these seventy share this burden—it seems that the Spirit also falls on two brothers who had stayed back at camp. Maybe they’re guarding the tents, but they’re not counted among the elders. That, however, doesn’t stop God from touching them and empowering them so that they can take their place among the leaders. Now, such a reality doesn’t sit well with some folks, such as Joshua, son of Nun, the assistant of Moses who says: “My lord Moses, stop them.” And Moses responds saying: “Are you jealous for my sake? Would that tall the Lord’s people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit upon them.” I imagine Moses then goes to his tent, lays down and gets a full eight hours of sleep for the first time in months.
Not long after the Covid shut-down ended and we were in the throes of determining the extent of the structural instability of our tower—which seemed to be getting worse and worse with each ensuing report, a fellow minister (from a different denomination) tentatively entered my office, peering around the doorframe and asked. “Is it okey for me to come in?” “Sure.” I replied, and the two of us proceeded to catch up. We talked about the profound changes that had been wrought by this disease, and how it had impacted us individually, as well as our churches. He talked about changes he had made in his ministry—which came down to asking his parish to assist with some things he had been doing. We discussed how so often we (the minister or rector of the parish) think we need to “go it alone” and “be independent”—lead by example, yada, yada, yada. Why (we exclaimed in commiseration) should we believe, even for a moment, that the success of a church and a ministry depends solely upon us. Sometimes we’re really not the right people to be leading everything.
About this time in the conversation the light dawned and a great weight was lifted from my shoulders. I realized I needed to give up the idea that the fixing of the tower was somehow up to me and my limited gifts and resources as rector. For, in truth, the tower dilemma belongs to us all. Here I was, blessed with a church filled to the brim with engineers and project managers as well as people who understood money as well as large projects, folks who had the ability to see this project to fruition—and here I was, thinking I was supposed to be in charge? I mentioned this to the Wardens at the time, and they agreed (with no hesitation whatsoever) that I clearly was not the right one to lead this up. They pointed out that to bring up the subject at the time was to see anxiety writ large upon my face—which wasn’t particularly helpful. In truth, in some ways, I was more of a hindrance than a help. And I felt free to concentrate on the pastoral role, programming and worship responsibilities as rector.
We still have the tower to address, and about $500,000 to raise—but we have capable people such as Joe Lavalley and Olivia Hurlock who have worked tirelessly to move this project forward, as well as Rick Edie, our Capital Campaign and Tower Committee Chair, your wardens, Astrid Mackenzie and Tom Beaudoin, our vestry and so many more of you offering financial and spiritual support. Getting this enormous project done is well within our realm of possibility, and your rector is able to sleep at night.
I suspect each of us, in our own ways, have all have had “Moses” moments—times when the weight of the world seems to be ours alone to bear. Those occasions when we proclaim (with all seriousness) that “it won’t get done unless I do it!” If we’re honest, that’s an illusion, really—one more often born of pride than anything else; the lack of willingness to reach out and ask for help.
In today’s lesson—it is at the moment that Moses asks for help that God responds. The answer, it seems, had been around him all this time—in the people of Israel themselves. Moses, we learn, was never meant to go it alone. Nor were the disciples. In the Gospel lesson appointed for today John says to Jesus: “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” And Jesus replies: “Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us.” In other words, the task of bringing the Kingdom of God to fruition is not dependent only on the disciples—but rests upon all those who, in the spirit of God, desire and work for the same thing.
There is a wonderful lesson for us in these readings. It is a call to humility—to see ourselves, and our talents clearly, to ask God that they be used accordingly—and when a task seems too large for us to carry alone, to share it with others.
When Phil and I visited Portugal some years ago, a bus couldn’t manage to get through a narrow street because a car was parked too far into the road. What would happen? We watched as about twelve men hopped off the bus and proceeded to lift the car—pick it up, and move it so the bus could proceed forward. The bus driver—theoretically the leader of the vehicle, couldn’t have done it himself—he needed help. And it was right there in the seats behind him.
What a blessing it is that we can ask God for help when faced with tasks too large for ourselves alone—seeking direction, and find that it is given. And not only this—but we, with our gifts and talents--we can assist others. Working together, we release burdens too large for us to carry on our own, and we share in the work that is too burdensome for others to manage on their own. In this way working together we each labor in our own way to bring the Kingdom of our God to fruition. Go, then, this week, and do the work of the Lord. In Jesus’ name. Amen.